A Legend of Fallen Knights
by Calliope Foster
Summary: There is a legend that fallen knights return as great horses. He has seen what awaits you, and he will protect you. Read and review if possibleEnjoy!
1. One

**Disclaimer**: All belongs to Franzoni, Fuqua, and Bruckheimer, I just got inspired.

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**A Legend of Fallen Nights**

**One**

You may not believe it now, but once I was a great warrior. Yes, I do look very different; my coat shiny and dark brown, my nose longer, my ears more alert and wild looking, and oh yes, I have a tail. But there are some striking similarities between this life and the last. Most notably are my eyes, for they are still as dark as the night and although I may not speak, I am not as dumb as you believe.

When I first awoke from my dreamless sleep I found myself in a forest, surrounded by steam, mist, animals of the dark, and strange men. The cold night was lighted only by the dim stars above us. I could hear the men speaking. "Ahhh, there's a good girl, there's a girl, lass. Yer all right, now, it's over."

_What is over?_ I wanted to ask, blinking my eyes as I found even the candle light was hard to bear. _Where am I? Where have I come?_

I found myself in a strange new land with strange new acquaintances and in a very strange new life. High in the lands where there was always a hill bigger than you stood on, and a hill bigger than that and so on. The grass was always green in the summer and the winters were always bitter and cold. I had hooves, walked on four feet, and made strange noises when I tried to speak, but strangest of all, I could not seem to remember what I had so desperately wanted to cling onto. I was myself, but yet I was not—I was new.

My snout got in the way of things, when I tried to tell my masters things, but they only laughed at me and gently patted my face while I saw the other horses running free and dumb. They knew nothing and were of no use to me; all but my mother, who was my only solace.

I spent little time with Mother, though, and the days years were quick when she would groom me and run wild with me in the fields where we ate and played. I did not understand at first why they separated Mother and I, but it was what was expected. I was grown and to be prepared for a new life.

The people I lived with lived nowhere and we drifted from place to place. When in war the people I lived with pained themselves blue and put twisting, black decorations all over their bodies as if to frighten the enemy. The display was fascinating—and I often longed to take my own life up on the battlefield, where my mother always charged the enemy first, followed by the steady stream of horses and men. Someday, my master promised, I, too, would be amongst the many horses charging the enemy.

My master's name was Bruce and he had a lovely wife (who gave me plenty of ripe red apples) named Eithne, but they only had one child named Brigid. Brigid never found comfort or fun in playing with the other children, as I had come to observe, but her curiosity was in horses, and drawing funny knots and designs on everything…sometimes even me. I did not mind, as long as she did not pull my tail or braid my hair!

There seemed to be a reverence and a sort of fear coming from Brigid when it came to us horses. Due to the fact that she never pulled on my tail or tried to braid my tail, I found a liking in her. The girl had orange hair that never seemed to tame, like her father, and freckles with very light skin that easily burned when the sun was out, which was an incredibly rare event for the highlands. Although tall and thin, Brigid was almost unbreakable—she liked hard work and did all the chores her father and mother asked of her. Brigid was quiet, barely speaking to anyone but her father Bruce, and sometimes to me.

Bruce was a fine man and kind to all of his people and horses. My life was simple, filled with lots of green, green grass, and the comfort of a well built stable. Had my life always been this way, my story would end here, but it does not and change occurs quick and often, leaving the weak and unprepared behind in its wake.

The night began bright and beautiful; Bruce took me out for a jaunt to keep my back used to a rider when the time came to be placed in battle. Bruce and I rode to the sun, chasing after it as the great flame disappeared over the edge of the very earth, turning the sky bright purples, pinks, and reds as if it left the blue sky smoldering from its very heat.

"There's a good boy," Bruce patted my nose, as I ate from his right hand, filled with oats, "a fine warrior you'll become, aye?"

I ate heartily from my master's palm, licking up whatever I could despite all the oats that had spilled onto the dirt ground of the thatch covered stable. "Goodnight then, warrior, 'tis a rest you deserve," Bruce slapped my large shoulder when he had finished his time with me, "and early tomorrow shall we all wake to a bright new dawn to welcome us from our slumber."

With that, Bruce left me and although I wished he might stay longer, I was too hungry to call after him.

I slept easy that starry night. The moon shown so brightly it might have blinded the night creatures, for it tried to steal into our stable. A few of the horses snorted and neighed, but in my dreams I could have see the stars bright and clear as they attempted to kiss the earth while I gazed upon them. In my dreams, all was different and I was not a horse, but a fellow human and I could speak with other humans. Humans I thought I knew, but could not name. Only in my dreams and nightmares could I speak their words and names and remember everything, but the moment I woke all prior knowledge to a silenced life was gone.

There was a sudden ruckus outside, shouting and bellows of war. In moments I could feel and see the flames right outside the stables. Some of the horses had been taken to fight, some stolen by whatever enemy had attacked, and still some rode off of their own free will, but I remained trapped in my stall.

Now the stable doors were wide open and I saw the fighting so close. From outside the flickering fire frightened and amazed me. Inside the stable was too dark to know what really was going on and I neighed loudly, kicking at my door.

From the flame I saw a shadow come running into the stables—and until the figure was at my stall I could not see who it was. I neighed frightfully, fearing a Saxon had come to steal me away, but I would fight and die before they should take me!

"Sh!" A hoarse voice calmed and grasped my reigns tightly, pulling me to my wits and her eyes. "Don't fret, my warrior."

A weak hand slid over my muzzle to console my worries and I was assured of Brigid's presence. Our eyes matched and I saw in her weakened state and what fear she held. _What's the matter?_ I snorted in confusion.

Making sure no one had spotted her; Brigid haphazardly swung open the lock on my stable and led me out. _What going on?_ I stomped my hoof at the ground defiantly. _Where are we going?_

"Come now," Brigid ordered roughly, "we've no time for this!"

The urgency in Brigid's voice alerted my senses and I became aware that there was something incredibly wrong. With no more hesitation, I followed Brigid to the stable doors and she shielded her eyes from the light of the fire while I did my best not to fear it.

_Where can we go?_ I thought frantically. _We're trapped!_

When Brigid tried to mount me, she fell back to the ground and I gave her a look of confusion. _What's the matter with you?_ I grew impatient.

I then noticed when she stood that there was a strange liquid on the ground, seeping into the stray hay and dirt. Not only was Brigid wounded, but I never remembered her ever riding a horse and the shouts from outside had dwindled. Lowering onto my haunches for Brigid, I allowed her to easily get on my back although I could sense her pain when I stood. I faced the fire once more. _We must be strong._

Closing my eyes I ran and Brigid lie against me as we leapt through the flames and raced through the town. There was an odd, unfamiliar language surrounding me, but I refused to open my eyes and I believe Brigid also had.

In the recesses of my mind I saw a man—a man who had never been in my dreams. _"There is a legend that fallen knights return as great horses…"_

_Father…_

The whisper came from my own voice, the one I could remember from so long ago. The sight of Brigid came to mind and I assured her with a loud snort. _I will protect you, great warrior, for I have seen what awaits you._

I did not open my eyes until we were deep within the forest and fighting the brush with the shouts of the enemy far behind us. Brigid was now unconscious and her long, orange braid slapped against my bare skin, but my pace never slowed as I let my instincts guide me southward.

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**_So what do you guys think of my brand new take? If somebody already thought of it, I commend your brilliance. As for me, I am trying to do as much justice to Lancelot and his new horsely state as possible. Do you like? Tell me and I may just keep her going! Oh yeah and it'd fun if somebody else did a Tristan and Dagonet one and kind of collaborated it with my own story, I'd be totally up for that action. Just give me a ring on da e-mail._**

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	2. Two

**Disclaimer**: All belongs to Franzoni, Fuqua, and Bruckheimer, I just got inspired. And thanks for all the reviews!

**Two**

There were oddly familiar voices surrounding me when I awoke, yet when I opened my eyes the light from the sun filling the stables blinded me. "The least we can do is let the beast die in peace."

"No, Galahad," a deep voice spoke, "this horse saved that girl's life."

Another voice came to contradict the first. "He fought to keep her alive and we'll fight to keep him alive."

"And such a fine steed, too," came a gentle, womanly voice as a hand stroked my muzzle, "poor creature."

_Guinevere. _

I tried to lift my head to see her, but I was too weak. What had happened? All I could remember was misfortune and flames…and Brigid. Where was she? This time I managed to lift my head higher and I snorted, nibbling at a hand that reached out. "All will be well, soon," the woman whispered, "your will to live is stronger than any I have known…even after all that you have suffered."

_Brigid_, I insisted in weak neighs and pressed my head against the hay, _where is she? Is she all right?_

"My horse!" A fierce voice shattered the air, making some of the other horses fidget. "By Epona! What's happened to him?"

I noticed now how different Brigid sounded from the rest of them. Her accent was strange, northern, and deeper than that of the others. "Arthur! I could not stop her!" A new raspy voice came.

"That's no matter, Bors."

"You could fall ill," the first voice I heard insisted, "you haven't had enough time for recovery!"

"Oh leave her _be_, Galahad."

"Gawain, I am only stating the truth!"

Brigid just ignored every one of them and I suspect she gave all of them quite dastardly looks as I head and felt her footsteps rustle through the hay near my head. Every movement, spoken word, and pounding from outside and in was amplified ten fold. _Oh,_ I groaned, _lower your voices, it hurts me so!_

Even in Brigid's weakened state she could have a temper and even when she had a temper she could still be as gentle as a mother lamb. A flash of a red dress and I felt Brigid lift my head up then, tenderly lay it on her lap as she caressed my sweaty coat. "My poor horse," Brigid whispered in the Pict language to me, her voice strained even then, "I owe you my very life."

"Come now," a kingly voice insisted, "we have other matters to attend."

The stable seemed empty now, except for Brigid and I as she stroked my mane and whispered pleasant memories to me. "I've brought you some remedies," the other woman said, "for your horse."

Brigid ignored her, but the woman continued. "He _is_ devoted to you."

"And I to him."

At this, I moved my muzzle into Brigid's left hand and snorted my thank you. Slobbering and snot is permitted in the world of horses as a thank you or a gesture of fondness. Had I been human and done this, one would have thought me mad.

Both Brigid and the woman chuckled at my display and the thick atmosphere of oddity seemed to dissipate. "You come from the north, then?"

"Yes." Brigid replied. "We are Picts. Named so for our designs and pictures we draw."

In her explanation, Brigid lifted a leather bound necklace with a silver charm on it of a square knot she always wore. "It is everlasting," Brigid explained, "it never begins or ends. My father gave it to me as a child when I fell very ill from falling off of a horse."

_So that would explain why she never rode any horses._ Oddly, she had been like a feather on my back and not many riders were so courteous to their horses.

Guinevere smiled and stood. "I will leave the two of you alone for a time," she gathered her dress, "but I will be back, mind you, and you will get your rest whether you wish it or not!"

Brigid just laughed and continued to pet me as Guinevere left. "Oh, poor horse," Brigid sighed and paused as she moved to rest her head on my own shoulder, "we will gather strength together."

The girl's touch was warm and kind as I sighed my reply. _Yes, together._

"Gentle warrior," Brigid whispered as she scratched behind my ears, "we can only wonder what tomorrow will bring."

I lie ill for some time, not finding any strength to move or even eat, but Brigid came to me as much as she could, or was allowed. Brigid would whisper thoughts of sweet oats and full fields of emerald grass where we could run and be free. Guinevere, the woman I oddly recognized, came to me very often, too, and with her presence came herbs and spices, both sweet and horrid, but both were soothing and healing, as was the sound of her voice.

Soon enough I could stand on my own four hooves, but I was still weary. I had constant visitors and more often than not I was troubled by Bors's, one of the knights, children. Yes, children, they flocked around me, wishing me well, giving me presents of flowers, entangling them with the braids they put in my hair and brushing me coarsely. On either side of me were also horses, the white one on my right, and on my left, one as dark as me. The latter and I could have been brothers, but these two were very unlike the horses I had met at home.

_Well,_ the dark one said teasingly, _aren't _you_ the decorated one?_

_Jealous of my adoring public, friend?_

The dark horse snorted and neighed in laughter. _Quite good humor you have, what's your name then?_

I paused in thought. The Picts had never given me a name, for I was to be named when going into battle. Without even considering it, I snorted out the first word that came to mind. _Lancelot._

_Aye, then Lancelot,_ said the dark one, _name's Dagonet and that one whispering sweet nothing to the hawk over there is Tristan._

Glancing to my right I saw the speckled white horse sniffing at the hawk that perched on the side of the stable, then turned to Dagonet. _Thank you for the lovely introduction, Dagonet._

_Oh, I have a host of them._

The white horse put his nose in my stall. _You see, friend, that is what he does with his time. Absolutely _nothing

_Now that's not true, Tristan, I spend most of my time being ridden and prepared for battle._

_And with the other ten percent you talk to yourself._

_At least it's not to some _hawk

The hawk squawked in his or her defense and I sighed in annoyance. Apparently these stalls would become quite a stage for the two horses, and with me around as their new protégé, I would have to deal with their foolishness. I lay my head down and sighed just as Brigid came in.

The door opened. _Oh hello there red._ Dagonet gestured toward Brigid as I stood and she patted the horse's nose.

Despite my dizziness, I went to Brigid immediately, as if she may disappear and licked her cheek. Brigid was taken aback for a moment, then laughed. "Here, I have a present for you." She said, bringing a shiny red hand to my sights.

I snatched the snack from her hands and chomped away as she petted me. "You're looking better each day, warrior."

Tristan looked to me and neighed. _I thought your name was Lancelot._

Ignoring Tristan, I went on eating the apple as Brigid laughed and scratched Tristan's nose. I nudged at Brigid's fancy blue dress, remembering the very ragged things she used to wear. _What's this?_ I teased nibbling at her sleeve. _Don't tell me you've fallen victim to becoming a fashionable lady!_

"I know," Brigid laughed as if she could understand me, "quite foolish, isn't it? Arthur insists I be treated kindly and Guinevere insists I take them. They look nice, but not on me."

_If I were a human I'd beg to differ._ Dagonet snorted.

_Come then,_ I insisted, _are you up for a ride, then?_

"Not today, boy," Brigid sighed, "I'm still healing, and were I to show you my wound in this strange place it would not be very modest of me. Tomorrow, perhaps."

And with a kiss on my snout, Brigid left.

**_Eastcoastie1500 and Lioness1, I'm totally cool on the idea. The prior wanted to do Tristan more and the latter Dagonet, correct? Go on ahead and weave the tail (ha, wrong spelling, bad pun!). I'd love to see the stories! And you don't have to completely conform to my ditty. But in this horsey horse world Dagonet is owned by Lucan and I have no clue as to who owns Tristan yet. Maybe whoever does Dagonet can come up with that!_**


	3. Three

**Disclaimer: **Kept saying I didn't own anything, but I own Brigid.

**Three**

I grew impatient. My strengthening legs begged for a chance of freedom in the fields and I had not seen Brigid for an odd amount of days. If only I were a servant of Epona, then I could change from horse to human and go and spy on my master to see why she was ignoring me.

Then Guinevere walked into the stables. For a moment I thought her an angel, outlined with a heavenly aura from the sun, carrying something in her hand as her robes flowed in the wind. Tristan's ears perked up and Dagonet quit eating for a moment to set his sights on the beauty.

Coming near, the glow about Guinevere dulled and I saw her natural state, but she no less beautiful. My heart seemed to burst, and a foggy memory returned to me. The lady's face was pale and thin in illness as she was wrapped in furs, gazing at me through the delicate snow. I could hear the sound of my own voice. _"I don't believe in heaven. I've been living in this hell. But if you represent what heaven is, then take me there."_

The rain began then and I gazed at Guinevere now, as she greeted Tristan, Dagonet, and myself. _Still radiant after all these years_. I remarked as she paused, gazing at me.

Dagonet turned to me. _What did you say?_

I shook out of my trance when Guinevere offered me a carrot, but I was not interested. _Just thinking to aloud._

Pressing my snout to Guinevere's hand, I begged to know where Brigid was. _Where's Brigid? Is she all right?_

"Poor thing," Guinevere sighed, stroking my mane, "she misses you as well, but I'm afraid she's fallen incredibly ill from an infection…while she should have been resting she was out running around and opening that wound!"

_Wound?_ I became frightened all of a sudden and neighed loudly. _Take me to Brigid, I _must_ see her!_

Guinevere backed away from my tantrum and suddenly I felt my reigns being tugged and I met a familiar face. "Whoa boy!" King Arthur had come into the stables now and I struggled in his grip, but he remained firm. "There is no need to fret, warrior, you have nothing to fear."

I shook my head and clamped down on my bit, but Arthur just gently petted my head. "Shh, now, boy," Arthur's voice became softer with each word as he pressed his cheek to mine, "all is well…"

After a few moments I gained my bearings and snorted a bit, but Arthur just patted my snout and looked to Guinevere. "Are you all right, milady?"

"Milday?" Guinevere raised her brow, moving closer to her husband. "Since when did you start addressing me as 'milady'?"

"Since I saw your face just now," Arthur grinned; his jests only came when she was around, "I'd mistaken you for some fairy."

Moving close to him, Guinevere smirked, their mouths inches apart. "Isn't that against your teachings?"

I neighed, trying to pull away from Arthur and the two turned to me. "She'll be healed soon enough, boy, I shan't let her out of my sight this time," Arthur insisted, freeing me from his clutch, "until then, you'd better behave yourself."

Tristan and Dagonet moved for attention from the King and he gave each a pat on the muzzle before going off with Guinevere as they kissed each other teasingly. _I've never seen a happier pair. _Dagonet sighed._ Other than him and his hawk._

_Don't listen to him,_ Tristan whispered to the fowl, _he's just jealous_.

I looked to Dagonet as he shook his head, then his ears pricked up. _Lucan_

A blonde haired teenager came trudging into the stables, his eyes on the large, dark horse in the stable next to mine. Dagonet was awfully exited to see the young man, who gave the horse a pat on the nose. "Hello boy, did you miss me?"

Dagonet sniffed the young man's shirt and face eagerly. "Are you up for a ride, then?"

At that, Dagonet threw back his head and let out a sharp neigh, stomping his foot. _That's his master._ Tristan informed me. _Lucan_

I turned to the speckled horse at my side. _And what of yours?_

Disinterested, Tristan went to his trough. _I don't know._

Giving a disheartened sigh I watched as Lucan led the large, but gentle horse from the stalls. I knew how Dagonet felt for his master—we were meant to protect them. I knew little of Tristan's prior life, but I myself thought no feeling could be stronger than of that between a horse and his rider.

_Oh Brigid,_ I moped, _get well._

**_Shout outs to all who commented._**

**_Sweet A.K. – You da bomb._****_ I mean it. Caboom._**

**_Seeker – I'm glad you like my story. I just hope my portrayal of both Lancelot and horse are somewhat accurate._**

**_Lioness and Eastcoastie1500 – I wish you both luck if you choose to do the stories and lost of muse power! Thank you billions for the nice comments._**


	4. Four

**Four**

"Stupid beast!" Bors bellowed at me as I cantered away from the heavy knight and the other knights laughed.

The man was like a lead weight on my back—how could he possibly have thought I would allow him to ride me? "Come now, Bors," Galahad called, getting as annoyed as I, "leave the horse be."

I snorted in agreement, keeping on eye on Bors as I dipped my neck to chomp at the green grass. "That there is a fine horse," Bors boasted, clambering to his feet, "and I've a mind to have me Gilly best him."

"Oh really?" Gawain scoffed. "You'll think Vanora a gem when that ruddy haired wench comes after you."

Alerting my ears, I hoofed at the ground imbedding a reminder of Gawain's disrespect for my master. Bors came for me once more, approaching nonchalantly, but when he came too close I neighed fiercely and reared.

A few more attempts and Bors began to tire of me, but not before my savoir came. "Get off of him!" The roar from Brigid was bone chilling. "You'll break his back you mongrel!"

Bors paused, then glanced over his shoulder and saw a fierce Brigid, who had jumped the fence and was running our way. Instantly, I raced to Brigid, coming to a stop before her, pressing my nose to her face. _You are still weak, my friend._

"It's all right, my warrior," Brigid said sweetly as she caressed my face, the long green dress she wore reflected from her eyes, making them look unearthly with flecks of gold like the trim on the dress, "I am here now."

Out of the corner of my eye I saw Bors approaching—his face reddened and looking furious. "You little tart—"

_Get away from her!_ I snorted, threatening to charge Bors if he came any closer. _I will run you over, man—do _not_ test me!_

Bors just glared at me, as if he could best me, and when he saw I would not back down the knight gave Brigid a cold snarl and he headed off. "You look well," Brigid said as I felt her hand on my neck, "you always were a beautiful horse."

_So much flattery, milady!_ I neighed in delight.

"Oh, I've missed you so," Brigid whispered to me, "I've missed the sun and sky and grass…but I've missed you most."

I pressed my nose into Brigid's cheek as she laughed and I chomped at her wild, orange hair. "If Arthur or Guinevere find me out here they shall go into fits of epilepsy!" Laughing at her own joke, Brigid scratched behind my ears.

_Then I will protect you, my lion and lamb._

"Although, I must say, the air has a sudden chill in it." A grin formed across Brigid's face. "I want to fly, warrior—like the birds. Can we fly together?"

Instantly my ears pricked up and I bobbed my head up and down with excitement while hoofing at the ground and neighing. _Are you sure you can do it in that dress?_

As if she had heard my tease, Brigid laughed and went to my side, as she leapt up onto my broad back. "You ready?" She whispered, her hands clutching my mane.

I snorted, trying to glance back at her. _Are you?_

Squeezing my sides, Brigid gave the command and I was off, as fast as I could—faster than ever! We dashed over the emerald grass, toward the blue beyond, and farther. I could not stop, my heart raced and I dared not guess if my legs outran it. Clear water washed our faces from the creeks I jolted through and any animal in my way for a mile fled for fear of being too slow! Oh, this was a dream.

On my back, Brigid remained silent, and I could not feel her at all. Several times I feared she may have fallen off, but by the sound of her shouts and laughs I knew she was still there—I knew we were flying. Together.

The ground was soft and the shade cool as we rested, far from the place we had flown away from. Brigid lay before me, her head near my knees, folded beneath me as I breathed soft, deep breaths and listened to the wind and trees talk.

There was a small spring nearby were we had drunk from and now as I savored the sweet, cold drink in my thoughts, Brigid, propped up on her elbows, was drawing shapes in the grass. "Do you think of home?"

I stared at my master. _Sometimes._

Giving a sigh, Brigid looked to the short grass and pressed her hand over the area she had been drawing in. "I think of it all the time…that's why I make the knots. To remind me…so that I never forget. Guinevere always asks why."

_It isn't her business._

"I will draw the knot for the water goddess Sulis here." Brigid said, getting up and going to a rock where the spring began at. "So we know that this well is ours."

Snorting a sigh, I lowered my head and closed my eyes, but my ears were high and alert for anything. "I was beginning to believe I'd never find you."

"Arthur!" Brigid was as surprised as I.

Standing in seconds, I faced Arthur, where he sat perched on his horse, a stern look across his face. "The air is very chilly out here, Brigid, you could have at least come and gotten a warm cloak before running off."

Arthur gave a warm smile and when I saw young Brigid's reaction of a devilish grin, I snorted in relief. As he passed me, Arthur patted my snout, his eyes lingering with mine for a strange and familiar moment, and then he moved to Brigid, covering her shoulders with a thick, scarlet cape, bringing out her rosy cheeks and brightening her hair. "Thank you, Arthur," Brigid laughed, "another five pounds to my weakened shoulders."

"And for the better, young lady," Arthur scolded teasingly, "so you don't catch cold, if you already haven't."

Then Arthur noticed the spring and Brigid's design to honor it. "My, what have we here, little artist?"

Brigid blushed deeply in embarrassed pride. "It is to honor the water goddess Sulis."

Arthur gave a chuckle and knelt down to examine the design. "Guinevere's boasts were true. You have quite a talent, Brigid."

"It isn't finished." Brigid knelt down beside her king. "And it may wash off in a day's time."

I glanced back to the horse Arthur had rode in on. A mare. Lovely and ginger colored. At first I was very disinterested and she the same, but I began to notice subtle very pretty things about her. Like the crescent on her forehead and the dainty way her ears curved about when she detected a sound. Her coat was lovely, tenderly cared for, and it glistened in the fading light.

Slowly, I approached the mare and we found ourselves coming closer and closer, until our noses touched. _Forgive me!_ I snorted, pulling back.

Silently, the little mare gazed at me curiously, and then she turned her head, pretending as if she did not even see me. _What's your name?_

My ears wiggled and I was shocked. _W-what?_

_Am I speaking a foreign language?_ The horse snapped, giving me a dastardly look of carelessness. _What's your name?_

_My name?_I paused, still in shock. _I—they call me warrior, but I am Lancelot._

_Lancelot?_ The mare snorted as if she did not like the taste of it. _That's an odd name. I like it._

_And _your_ name?_

"Well I see your warrior has taken to my Drysi." Arthur laughed, interrupting our discussion as he took his horse's reigns and she ignored me once more. "Careful boy, she can be the rose she really is or be the thorn she was named for."

As Arthur started first, Brigid took my reigns and pressed her face to mine so she could whisper. "She is a beautiful creature…be tender with her and she will warm to you, my warrior."

_Dating tips?_ I teased, chewing on a lock of Brigid's hair.


	5. Five

**Five**

The fall week was filled with heavy, cold rain and the leaves were being drowned rather than starved. There was a short break in the weather, fortunately, and for some time there was only overcast and the stables were full of buzz. Brigid strutted into the stable, her shabby clothes back on, and her hair looking wild as usual. _Well, so much for the _lady_ I knew._ I teased with a dip of my head.

Tristan remained silent, if that was any change, but his hawk was gone, and Dagonet seemed confused, but then Lucan came from another entrance of the stable, and ran to his faithful steed. "Hello there, boy!" Lucan said with enthusiasm, handing his horse and apple. "It's from Guinevere, she says you deserve it, old boy."

_Yeah,_ I snorted at Dagonet, _old boy_.

_Oh shove it._ Dagonet neighed back.

Brigid was eyeing Lucan strangely, as if sizing him up as she came toward me, with a sweet, deep orange carrot in her grip. "Is that _your_ horse?"

Lucan paused, and glanced back, surprised to see Brigid was there. The two were about the same age, Lucan a little taller, but his blue eyes met Brigid's challenging emeralds. "Yes." Lucan replied, stroking Dagonet's muzzle. "He's mine."

"Oh," Brigid smirked, handing me the carrot and scratching between my eyes, "I thought whoever owned that horse would have been a little taller, a little older, and perhaps a little more along the lines of a knight."

Dagonet seemed to take offense. _You thought, or you hoped?_

_Oh, Dagonet,_ I defended, _she's only teasing._

Lucan frowned at Brigid's comment and he watched her kiss my nose. "How odd," Brigid commented before Lucan could say anything, "our horses are so similar."

_Lancelot,_ Dagonet turned to me, _Lucan's__ easily hurt._

_You mean he's a sissy._ Tristan snorted sleepily.

_Go back to sleep Tristan,_ I commanded, then looked to Dagonet, _oh they're children._

"Yes," Lucan agreed with Brigid as he forced a smile, "they are, aren't they?"

Brigid began to open my stall. "I bet mine's faster."

Lucan furrowed his brows, and patted Dagonet's shoulder. "No one's faster than old Dag."

Tristan was now fully awake. _I hope I get to see this!_

_So you think you can run faster, eh, skinny legs?_ Dagonet chomped at his reigns.

I looked warily at Dagonet. The horse was much bigger than myself and I was not about to test him. _I never said that._

"No one but my horse." Brigid led me reluctantly from the stalls.

_Brigid__, this isn't such a good idea._

Watching Brigid mount my bare back, Lucan began to unlock Dagonet's stall as the horse became furious. "We're not supposed to race. We could get in trouble."

"Yeah right," Brigid laughed, "you just don't want to bloody lose."

Lucan seemed flabbergasted and then he led a vexed Dagonet from the stall. "I just don't want to bloody get in trouble!"

"They told me you were a wimp," Brigid said coldly, riding out of the stall, "they were right!"

Since we were on our way out, I picked up my pace, hoping that the distance would make matters less tense. My motives were foolish. In a second, Dagonet went flashing by me, taking my wits away for a second until Brigid dug her heels into my sides.

I gave a confused neigh and took off into an instant run, Brigid leading me after a disappearing Dagonet. The dark horse ahead of me was sure of himself—sure that he had shaken Brigid, but he was very, very wrong. In seconds we were neck and neck, Brigid trying to spook Lucan.

"Stop it!" Lucan cried. "You'll knock me off my horse!"

"Oh grow a back bone, lad!" Brigid laughed at him.

"You're _crazy_!"

_Think you can beat me, Lancelot?!_ Dagonet asked, his breaths quick and deep.

_Well,_ I replied with vigor, _I'm not the one running out of breath!_

We both took a sharp turn to our lefts and raced off to a new field, where the high waters of a deep river flowed. A swift jaunt and we horses were racing just near the bank and through the little bit of forestry alongside the river. "This isn't fair!" Lucan shouted as we moved ahead. "You're horse is smaller!"

"And faster!" Brigid laughed, looking back. "Don't forget that!"

Brigid and I were out ahead and winning long before the river bank and my feet lithe and light felt like feathers as I leapt over the brush, while Dagonet struggled behind us. There was a shout and a sudden splash. Before I knew it I felt a searing pain on the sides of my neck and skidded to a stop, as Brigid was slapped in the face by a few branches. "Uh!" Brigid grunted, the sting of the twigs burning her cheeks, and then she glanced back. "Lucan!"

Brigid turned me around and we saw only Dagonet, struggling in the water and splashing about to get up, but no Lucan. "Help!" A familiar shout came from nearby and Brigid gasped seeing him being carried by the swift river current. "I can't swim!"

Finally Dagonet got to his feet as Lucan was swept down the river. _Lucan_ Dagonet neighed frantically. _Lucan__ hang on!_

"Hang on!" Brigid cried, turning me back around as Lucan went back under and was taken past us.

There was a jerk on my reigns and then Brigid leaned forward. "Run, warrior!" She insisted. "As fast as you can!"

I jumped to attention and ran full speed toward the drowning boy. Dagonet was crashing through the brush. _Lucan_

Sliding to a stop as Brigid's commands, I was amazed to see my rider catapulting through the air and splashing into the muddy waters of the swelled river. _Brigid_ I whinnied in rage. _You're daft, lass! You'll freeze!_

Without thinking, I followed Brigid in and, with my teeth, caught the back of cloak before she was swept away, too. Splashing around, Brigid finally found her footing, and grasped my reigns for support as she reached out as far as she could for Lucan, who was coming quickly. _It's too cold!_

"Hang on, lad!" Brigid called to me. "Just a moment more!"

God, it was freezing! The water felt like ice and my bones tingled and went numb. In moments there was a hard tug and I feared Brigid might let go, but a sputtering and wet Lucan was being held tightly onto by Brigid. "Please, hang on!"

Brigid turned to me, her teeth clattering and her green eyes filled with apology. "Help us, warrior," she begged, "I can barely move!"

_Come on, Lancelot!_ Dagonet encouraged. _You can do it, lad!_

My bones had locked up and when I went to move I nearly collapsed. Dagonet neighed in fear as Lucan cried out, but Brigid held on tightly. "Come on, now!" Brigid commanded fiercely. "You can do this, warrior! You survived the Saxons!"

Yes, I agree, I survived the Saxons, but nothing is worse than ice! Neither Saxons nor fire! Suddenly there was a splash into the water and a limping Dagonet waded into the water. _Come on, lad!_

I moved slowly back, my bones aching as if they may break as any minute and Brigid trying her best to pushing us all out. A few more steps back and I felt a swoosh of relief as Dagonet blocked the flow and bent forward, taking Brigid's clothing between his teeth also. With that, we all dragged our riders from the river, and within seconds were on the bank. "Are you all right?" Brigid asked Lucan, as he lay on the cold banks.

Lucan gazed up at Brigid. _Get away from him!_ Dagonet snapped at my master. _You've nearly killed him!_

Brigid was nearly pushed back into the churning waters when I intervened and snapped back at Dagonet. _Hurt her and I will not hesitate to put you in true misery!_

"It's all right," Brigid calmed me, "it's all right, boy."

"No, Dagonet," Lucan reached up to his horse, "she's saved my life."

"My God!" A shrill voice came and I turned to see Guinevere heading toward us and just beyond the brush, the lovely ginger mare with a larger white horse nearby. "What's happened?"

"It's my fault!" Brigid cried quickly. "I've nearly killed him!"

"What?" Guinevere cried furiously. "What have you done, Brigid?"

"We were racing…" Lucan coughed from the ground as he sat up, "I agreed to do it…we're both to blame. She pulled me from the waters…"

"What have I said about racing?" Arthur appeared, his expression far from elation. "And Brigid, I said that running off would be dangerous, did I not?"

Brigid hid slightly behind me. "Yes."

"I'm sorry Arthur…" Lucan apologized with disgrace.

"He's burning up," Guinevere huffed, "and there's steam coming from those poor horses—oh, Brigid, what were you thinking?"

Growing frustrated, tears formed in Brigid's eyes. "I'm sorry!"

"I'll take Lucan," Guinevere said, helping the young boy to his feet, then looking to the orange haired vixen, "you should be ashamed of yourself, Brigid!"

Pressing her faced to my shoulder, Brigid tried her best not to cry, but I could feel that she was. _She saved his life,_ I insisted, then comforted Brigid with a sniff as I shivered, _it's all right, Brigid, don't cry._

"I get these horses into their stalls, so they're warm," Arthur replied, grabbing my reigns and casting sharp eyes at Brigid, "Brigid, take my horse home, go with Guinevere and get dry."

"Arthur," Brigid sniffed back her tears, "I'm sorry!"

"We'll speak of this later," Arthur replied firmly, "go now or you will regret lingering."

Her head down, Brigid wiped her eyes. "Yes Arthur…"


	6. Six

**Six**

Arthur led Dagonet and I into the stalls, coaxing us with heated water and plenty of blankets. "Don't worry boys, all will be well."

Tristan was gone, so we were free of a headache for some time. I snorted to see a familiar, dripping figure move toward us. As Arthur tended to Dagonet, Brigid ran to me. "Oh, forgive me, warrior."

_Are you daft? What are you doing out here?_ I scolded, nudging her with my frigid nose. _You should be inside getting warm!_

"Brigid—"

"Arthur, I didn't mean to!" Brigid said, holding onto me. "I just wanted to have some fun!"

"Brigid you should be inside," Arthur insisted, "you'll catch your death out here."

"I don't care…"

"Then should I take the liberty of finding your warrior a new owner?"

"You wouldn't!" Brigid protectively petted me. "I wouldn't let you!"

"I don't want to argue with you, Brigid…" Arthur sighed and took off his cloak, preparing to throw it over Brigid's shoulders, "now go inside while I tend to the horses."

Giving me a quick kiss on the snout, Brigid ran off before Arthur could give her something warm to wear. A heavy breath came from Arthur, steam rising from his lips as he gazed at me. "What shall we do with her?"

Those eyes—searching eyes that seemed to beg for an answer. Once, I may have answered him, but I sadly could not. Many humans misunderstood horses and each other, for that matter. _When will I know?_

Tristan's hawk swooped into the stables and squawked as she took her perch faithfully on the stable door of Tristan. "Hello there old friend," Arthur greeted the hawk, "your companion will be here soon."

As he came in, Tristan snorted, led by his rider and the horse found the company of the hawk well. Finally, the stable settled and the humans were gone. _What happened to you two?_

_His tart._

_Watch it, Dagonet._

There was a long silence between the three of us before Tristan stirred. The hawk let out a cry and then settled. _What's the matter, friend?_

_Nothing._ Tristan replied.

_That hawk's told him something again._ Dagonet snorted. _Putting stories into his head._

_Say another thing of my hawk and you'll regret it._

_Your threats now are worse than they were when you _could_ talk._

My ears pricked up and I looked to each of the horses. _You could talk once?_

_Yes,_ Dagonet replied, _once, many years ago…there is a legend you know—_

_Of fallen knights,_ I continued for the horse and urged him on, _yes, my father told me that once, or a man I believe _was_ my father._

_Yes, we animals don't forget our past lives as easily as our human companions,_ Dagonet sighed, _I only know that I was named Dagonet, the boy I belong to, Lucan, is one I saved in my prior life. We know this because of Tristan's hawk._

_See?_ Tristan said watching the hawk ruffle its feathers. _She comes to good use._

_Yes, but she only reveals what we already know is true._ Dagonet snorted. _She won't tell us all of our past lives._

_Because she was not meant to._ Tristan replied, admiring his friend, the hawk. _She is wise and old—older than you and I. The spirits whisper to this one. She and I were friends in my last life._

_Can she tell me who I am?_ I asked, putting my snout in Tristan's stall. _Who I was?_

Tristan stared at me for a moment, then turned to the sleepy looking hawk perched on the stable door. In an instant the hawk jumped to life and took flight, landing on my stable door and gazing at me with odd, dark eyes. She squawked, making me uneasy.

_No,_ Tristan said shaking his head, _she says that you are the key._

_What do you mean the key?_

_I don't know, she just said 'you are the key'._

Dagonet let out a breath, flapping his lips. _You always _were_ a vague one, Tristan._

_That's what she said!_ Tristan snapped in defense.

_Well you're no help._ I neighed at the hawk, making her take flight. _Be gone beast!_

Tristan tried to comfort the ruffled hawk. _That's no way to talk to her._

_Then tell her I demand to know what she says!_

Eyeing me warily, Tristan then just sighed. _All I can tell you is that you were Arthur's closest friend and confident and now your duty is to serve the girl, Brigid._

I was dissatisfied, but I was also very tired so I just sighed and tried to get some sleep.


	7. Seven

**Seven**

Nearly three years time passed. Three incredibly happy years. Although I rarely saw the beautiful mare Drysi, Brigid and I were as one—rider and steed in flight. This young girl, who had grown into a lovely young woman broke every rule and lived more in minutes than anyone else had in their whole lifetime.

At sixteen Brigid was a head-strong woman, rivaling any young man with a bow or a sword, and she had begun to work at the blacksmith's shop, twisting metal into odd knots to wear around her neck, set on a leather string. Brigid made me a pendant, too, but it was much larger than hers and it went on my chest with various large straps. "It means eternity." Brigid smiled and lifted her similar pendant that she had kept for so many years. "You and I are one, Warrior, forever."

_Forever._ I repeated in my mind, then leaned forward and slobbered on her as a thank you.

I had noticed the tuft of blond hair before Brigid and I gave a frightened neigh when Lucan jumped out, catching Brigid from behind. "Ahha!"

"Oh you!" Brigid snapped andflicked the young man on the nose.

"Ouch!" Lucan pulled away, rubbing his nose. "Your way of telling you that you love me, Brig?"

"You brute!" Brigid shoved him playfully. "Get away from me!"

Dagonet and Tristan seemed to come alive. Lucan tip-toed closer to the young woman. "Oh now, Brigid, admit it. You can't resist me!"

"I certainly can!" Brigid replied, trying to get by the blond, but he was too quick. "Stop it!"

"You pay more attention to that damned horse than you do me!" Lucan pouted, crossing my arms.

"Won't ya leave her be?"

Lucan and Brigid turned to see a dark haired lad entering the stables. It was Gilly, Bors' son. "Gosh, the sight o' you two makes me _gag_."

Gilly was a year younger than Lucan, but remained older than Brigid, who was the youngest of the three who had all become friends in their youth. "What?" Lucan teased. "Jealous the red-head has an eye for _me_?"

Brigid clouted Lucan on the back of the head hard enough to make him shout as Gilly gave a laugh. "What was that for!" Lucan cried as Brigid walked by him.

"For gloating." Brigid replied, sweeping her braid over her shoulder. "And because you've got girl's hair."

A roar of laughter came from Gilly and Lucan went bright red. "Watch-it, squirt—I can still beat the pulp out of you! Girl hair or _not_!"

"Live in your dream, Luc," Gilly replied, leading Tristan from his stall, "in any case of strength or wits, even Brigid could beat you hands tied behind 'er back."

"What do you mean by that?" Brigid snapped.

"_Oooh_!" Lucan taunted. "Someone's in trouble now!"

Before Brigid could explode, Gilly mounted Tristan and took off. "Wait up!" Lucan called after him. "I'm coming, too!"

Clumsily, Lucan opened the stable door, and led the horse out, then took off after Gilly. Brigid turned to me, shaking her head. "Excuse the phrase, my friend, but ugh! _Boys_."

_I forgive you._ I laughed. _As long as you take me out for some exercise._

Suddenly Brigid looked distant, a smile cast over her lips, and a dream in her eyes as she leaned on my stable door, gazing at me. "Isn't he handsome?" Brigid insisted. "These days I just can't stop thinking of him…Guinevere says that it's just a phase and Arthur just smiles when I talk about him…but I can't get him out of my thoughts!"

I was confused—who was this grand knight she spoke of? "I have to admit," Brigid's voice lowered and she leaned closer to me, "I may tease him for his hair, but I think it's _lovely_."

_Are you daft girl?_ I retorted with a stomp of my foot. _Lucan_

"Oh come on then," Brigid sighed, grabbing my bridle, "I'll take you out for a ride."

After a nice ride, Brigid was off, saying she had other things to tend to and giving me a kiss before she leapt over the fence keeping us horses caged in. My saddle and bridle were gone now, thankfully, and I grazed happily amongst the sunlit emerald grass.

_Oy__, friend._

I lifted my head to see Dagonet and Tristan approaching. I was glad to have their company. _Hello there old friends._

_A lovely day._ Dagonet blinked from the sun and stopped to graze near me. _Tristan and I've a thought for you._

_I already know._

_Of the boys and Brigid?_

_Aye._

_Lucan's__ crazy for her._

_And Gilly._

I gave a look to Tristan for a moment, then lowered my head to graze. _Brigid's__ a very different lass._

Tristan let out a snort of impatience. Do _her words consist of our masters?_

Pretending as if they said nothing, I continued to graze. _There's__ more important matters at hand._

_Oh, Lancelot._ Dagonet grunted. _That girl has your tongue in knots! I've never seen you more loyal. Not even in our days as humans._

Oh yes. I forgot to mention. I remembered now. My days as a young knight in the court of Arthur. My death, although painful, I remembered. Now and then I woke up in the darkest of nights, fearing the arrow of the Saxon that sealed my fate.

I suddenly heard human voices.

"She needs a good hiding if you ask me." Bors bumbled. "And iffen Arthur would allow, I'd give her one meself."

"Arthur would have your arse," Gawain replied, "and besides, she's only a girl."

"Love ain't no game, lad," Bors snapped, "neither is war!"

Gawain sighed in annoyance. "Hearing you say that is like taking advice from a fool."

_Brigid_ I thought to myself, _be wary of the games you play, lass._


	8. Eight

**Eight**

_Another nice day._I heard Dagonet mention as I slowly came to life from the night.

_Aye._Tristan replied. _It is._

I blinked my eyes, seeing the bright sun coming through the stables and smiled inwardly. _A good omen, the sun is._

Dagonet turned to me with surprise. _Well good morning._

_What of the knightly news?_

Tristan snickered at my jest and Dagonet snorted in annoyance. _Bors__ is in the local winery, as usual, Arthur's not to be seen and Gawain and Galahad came in here earlier to give us feed and water._

_And Brigid?_

Tristan let out a sigh, his lips ruffling. _Haven't seen her._

Speak of the imp, Brigid came storming into the stables, face brilliantly red, her freckles afire, and Lucan and Gilly looking frightened a few paces back. Coming straight to me, Brigid said nothing as she began to saddle me up. Lucan and Gilly shot each other cautious looks, then watched Brigid as she gently tended to me.

Pausing, Brigid eyed Lucan and Gilly both up. "_What_?"

I flattened my ears—by the deadly tone of Brigid's voice her mood was not one to be tested this day. Lucan and Gilly minded their eyes and continued to do what they came to have done, take their horses out for a ride.

Kicking open the stable door, Brigid squeezed my stomach hard and we were off. _What's the matter?_

Brigid ignored me and I kept going. In seconds we were at the end of this new silly gate, but Brigid was not letting me slow_. What are you doing silly girl!_

I tried my best to see, but soon the gate was out of my view and Brigid lifted my reigns, signaling me to jump. If I did not clear the gate we would both be in great danger, if we already weren't!

With one desperate leap, I felt as if I was flying for a moment, until my hooves came down hard on the ground. Flawlessly. I raced on.

Soon we were out of sight and ears reach of the castle and the rest of the Camelot brood and Brigid allowed me to slow. A few moments of heavy breathing and Brigid could not hold it in anymore. "That son of a bitch's whelp!" Brigid bellowed furiously. "May he and lady be cursed and may his knights break their legs and die with their tongues cut out!"

After all the cursing, I stopped mid-trot, allowing Brigid to gather her senses. _Are we together now, Brig?_

Brigid did not answer at first, instead she slid off of my back and began to undo my saddle. _Now what are you bloody doing!_

"If I we can't ride into battle together, then neither of us will." Brigid replied. "I'll drown myself and you'll be free, like you were meant to be."

_Where will you end your days?_ I scoffed. In that tiny spring?

Brigid glared at me as if she heard my words. "Don't you believe me?"

_No._ I replied, my eyes locked with hers. _But I believe _in_ you._

Heaving a heavy sigh and throwing the saddle off, Brigid gave a snort and threw herself down against a nearby tree. I allowed her some time to recover.

"He's so…_stupid_!" Brigid snapped in frustration, then gave a huff. "I'm twice the horseman Gilly is. I'm twice the swordsman Lucan is! And I've nothing to show for it for being a girl—_nothing_! I'm forbidden my place in this world and for what? Pride! _Ha_! I laugh at their stupidity!"

I said nothing, just allowing her to blow off what steam she had left. "I could _kill_ Arthur! And I know Guinevere had _something_ to do with this! She's never liked me since Lucan nearly drowned—she's just put up with me."

_Now that's not true._ I lifted my eyes to hers and moved toward her to comfort her. _Guinevere cares very much for you._

"Oh shove off, you." Brigid pushed my snout away, but I was adamant to give her a lick on the cheek and I succeeded making Brigid smirk. "Oh…my warrior, we shan't ever be parted as long as I live. That knot you wear is your heart and the one I wear mine." Brigid traced the knot on my chest with her hand. "Our hearts are the same and forever will be."

I gave her a gentle nudge. _Come one now, let's go home before someone comes looking for us._

"I don't want to." Brigid whined. "I've finished with them. I want to call a new place home…I wish we'd never come here…"

_Now don't say that._ I scolded. _Everything will be all right, you'll see._

"I'm scared, warrior," Brigid looked to me, "I drew the runes the other night…I've not done that for some time. Arthur disapproves of the old ways and I do my best to accommodate him. I'm afraid my thread is short. But it is broken. My past rune tells me to always remember those I loved and who loved me, my present says that I must walk lightly, but when the time arises wield my sword with bravery, and my future reveals that those who live by the sword die by the sword." Brigid frowned then. "Arthur's always quoting that, as if we haven't _heard_ it enough times. And do you know what he told me?"

_What?_

"That women weren't meant for that fate!" Brigid became riled again. "So I told him that he must think me a coward! And you know what he said?"

_Do tell._

"_Nothing_!" Brigid snapped. "He said _nothing_, warrior, like he considered me weak!" She then grasped my reigns and tugged on them. "I'll _never_ understand the Romans! In fact, I blatantly _refuse_ to from this day forth!" Then Brigid released me and gave a sigh. "But I shan't wait a moment to raise my weapon against the man who dare strikes him down…"

_Come on._ I knew no other way to comfort my rider. _Please, Brig, let's return home._

The sound of muffled hooves slamming against the earth came to my ears and I turned to see two familiar steeds riding this way. "Brig!"

Brigid gave a groan. "Bloody hell…"

"Brigid, where are you!"

Gilly and Lucan were calling for Brigid and they sounded fairly worried. _Brigid_ I nudged her again, _they're calling for you._

Finally Brigid rose to her feet and stomped towards the two approaching horses. "Go _away_!"

Lucan and Gilly came to a stop near her. "We were worried sick, Brig!"

"Dad saw you running off so he went to Arthur!" Gilly warned. "You'd better get back there before Arthur is very angry."

"Oh curses on all of you!" Brigid snapped childishly and began to walk away again.

"Come on, Brig," Lucan insisted gently as he leapt off of Dagonet's back to follow her, "now it's not _that_ bad. At least he permitted you your warrior."

Brigid spun around, glaring at Lucan, who looked about ready to take a punch. "My horse is not meant to be _paraded_ like some…statue of your king's beloved wench Guinevere!"

"Now Brig—"

"And I, too, was not meant to be carved of granite," Brigid raged on, "we were meant to fight, Lucan!"

Lucan tried to calm Brigid. "I know, Brig, but Arthur comes from a different place…he's Roman—he—"

"Gilly!"

Gilly looked alarmed. "Oy! That's Father!"

"You _never_ saw me." Brigid stuck a threatening finger in Lucan's face.

Lucan just shook his head in reply. I got two very sorrowful glances from both steeds. When Lucan saw Brigid coming back to me, he seemed eager to try and fix things. "When will you be home, Brigid?"

Without an answer, I suppose she gave him a glare, for I did not see, Brigid squeezed my sides and we were off again. So much for a nice day.


	9. Nine

Nine

The cold fall night was filled with sounds, smells of fire and wine, and as the party lasted far into the night, we horses tried our damndest to rest. I opened my eyes to see a black cloaked figure—a figure all too familiar in my dreams.

A Saxon's cold arrow, the frigid feeling as the smoke clouded my eyes, and my heart gave way to the arrow's poison…the image of death was coming toward me. I stirred in fear, but the hand that reached for me was flesh covered and warm to the touch of my nose. Brigid removed her hood, gazing at me, the moonlight in her emerald eyes. "This night and ever nights to come I still remain a Pict…no Roman am I." Brigid gazed into my eyes. "I belong not with Arthur, but among those of my own kind. Will you join me this night, warrior? To watch the pyre of Samhain die to ward the spirits off?"

It was a tradition well known to me, that I had not partaken for years, but I agreed in my weary state none the less. "In the morn e will bless ourselves with the ashes." Brigid informed with a whisper as she lead me freely from my stall. "Had I the gift of alchemy I may know how to make woad, but alas I know it not."

I followed Brigid without a lead, my whole body freed of all wear, except for the eternity knot, making me feel strangely naked and pure. The fire Brigid had prepared was a small one, but littered with herbs and spices, smelling sweet and stinging at the same time.

The wind carried voices that night—odd, awful voices that chilled my very bones and made my stomach weak. The winds called my name, spoke to me of the past. Brigid sat with her eyes closed, the fire illuminating her pale, freckled face. "The spirits call for us," Brigid said finally, "they come from the north…and so will our enemies."

I glanced at Brigid. _'Tis so unearthly a sound._

"Aye," Brigid gave a nod, as if she had heard me, "the saddest songs ever sang. An icy lullaby."

_If you go,_ I leaned forward, nudging Brigid, _I go with you, milady._

Brigid reached up, patting my snout reassuringly. "You have more important things to accomplish in this world…"

I could not lose Brigid; she could not lose me. I accepted her fate as I accepted mine, for destiny is a stubborn and fickle things that we have little control of. An odd feeling rose in me and I lifted my eyes to see an odd old man watching us—familiar and yet strange. The man I knew well, though, and his name was Merlin. His eyes were cast on the both of us, Brigid and I, and I could see that he, too, could hear the wind's words.

With a strange hand gesture, the man disappeared, and Brigid never noticed him.

When I woke, the sky was gray, pyre was gone and I saw dark images on the rocks surrounding the small pit. Knots. Brigid must have drawn them. I nudged her awake.

Brigid smiled and patted my forehead, then rose to her feet, but when she caught sight of the stones she gasped. "What's this?"

Kneeling over the pit, Brigid studied the stones for a minute, glanced at me, and then began to quickly turn the stones over. "If anyone can decipher these…" Brigid did not finish her sentence, filled with terror.

For a moment she looked up, nearly frightened out of her wits. When I saw the sight she was frozen by, I lifted my head. Merlin walked toward us. "Don't be frightened." The old man commanded in the ancient tongue. "I come to wish you favor from the good people."

"You were the one who wrote on these stones?"

Merlin just smiled, and then nodded to the ashes. "Might I be permitted to bless myself amongst your ashes?"

Brigid moved back, her terror gone, now only reverence in its place. "I'd be honored."

Moving toward us, Merlin took a seat across from Brigid. "We Woads are much like you, the Picts." Merlin stated. "We know the old ways. The ways that slip through our hands like ashes…your horse." Merlin looked to me, as if knowingly. "His eyes convey the look of a man who knew this place…a knight you have in him. He is the key to Arthur's true glory and power."

Brigid stared at Merlin. "He's his own horse. I've no more power over him than Arthur could ever have."

"Do any of us?"

Becoming impatient, Brigid pursed her lips. "What do you want old man?"

_Mind your words, Brig._

"Freedom." The old man replied. "Is that not what you wish, too?"

Brigid took ashes between her fingers. "I'm afraid we will only achieve freedom…through our own ashes."

Merlin then looked to me. "You know what you need to do, boy."

_Ashes._ I thought.

_"A strong east wind…"_

I neighed, then impatiently shoved at Brigid. _Come on girl, hurry up!_

"What's gotten into you?" Brigid shoved me off. "You've gone crazy!"

_No, come on._ I ordered.

"He will take you." Merlin nodded in approval. "Go with him to where his mortal body lies."

Brigid looked frightened as she stood. "Mortal body…"

"Know this," Merlin said, "the story is true, what they say of knights and horses. He has seen your path and he will guide you."

Gazing at me, Brigid paused for a moment, then slowly mounted my bare back before glancing back at Merlin, who waved me off. I rode over the hill, out of sight of the castle and through a small wooded area, coming down near a lake where there were many mounds of those since passed. I saw a mound, still scorched from years ago, my sword planted firmly at its head. I stopped there.

Brigid nearly fell off, but gained her footing, staring at the sword for a moment, then looking to me. "I couldn't."

_Go on._ I commanded, nodding to the sword. _It's yours now._

Taking a look at the sword again, Brigid seemed still trapped in fear and disbelief, then she looked to me. Silently, she turned and ran off. Away from me.

_You tried._

I lifted my head, gazing at Dagonet, who's rider stared after Brigid. _A time will come,_ I assured Dagonet, _when she finds the warrior she's hidden away._


	10. Ten

**Ten**

Brigid did not come to me for a fortnight after that, fearing she may wound me again with her refusal. I wished to see her badly. The only thing that brought me solace was to catch glimpses of the ginger horse Drysi. Now and then she came close enough for me to smell her—a scent of flowers—but the minute I tried to approach her, she ran off.

A funny game mares play.

All those fourteen nights Brigid spent away, I was haunted with dreams. Dreams of the past, dreams of the future. Dreams of presenting Brigid my sword as my human form. "_Take this, girl, and fight with it. Honor us knights."_

And I would see that same terrified expression, gazing at the sword, as if all her life the fight had been for nothing important. _"I can't…"_

Off she'd run, like a scared hen. Perhaps I _was_ wounded.

In my memory there are things I hold dear and things I despise—but each are close and vivid to my eyes and ears, sometimes frighteningly vivid. Sometimes, I can still feel my heart leap when Guinevere enters my dreams and other times I can still hear the cries of a dying comrade.

The night the Saxons appeared was a night I shall never forget and this cold December night I dreamt of that memory. I heard the screams, felt the heat of the fire, felt my body sweat with fear. All the other horses were taken, ridden off by warriors—only men. There was no moon, the sky clouded with smoke and then, my savoir, Brigid threw open the stall doors, choking on the smoke.

Her long orange braid slapped against her back and she lifted her head, looking to me. She cam racing toward me, but this was different, she was older—her face matured and her eyes darker. She was taller, broader, and when she came to my stall her eyes held no fear now.

"Look at me warrior," Brigid commanded, I knew now this dream was real as she held my face in her hands, our eyes connecting in a fierce gaze, "you have seen many battles, I know this, but I am new at this trade…and I need your guidance."

Snorting, I pawed at the ground and bobbed my head to accept the challenge. For you, milady, I would give my own life.

Brigid smiled, as if in reply to my words, and she bent toward me, touching our foreheads together. "We've already lost a family." Brigid said, opening the stall. "We shan't lose this one, too!"

When Brigid mounted my back, I felt a surge of energy and without her beckon, I raced out of the stalls and off to battle—but wait! Something tugged at my brain and I turned, heading through a small wooded area, Brigid shouting for me to stop and I did.

There, at the head of a scorched grave, stuck a sword, waiting for Brigid. Dismounting, Brigid slowly approached the dead man's sword. _Take it._

Brigid heard the shouts of the Saxons and with a new bravery, gripped the hilt of the sword, tugging it from its place with one try. She turned to me, the single sword raised. Had I been human I might have used two, but Brigid needed only one.

"All right, warrior," Brigid looked to me, "guide me."

I needed no orders to do that and we raced to the combat, at full speed. I saw familiar faces both amongst my own and my enemy. The weak Saxons had tried to invade Camelot, but they would not succeed.

As we charged ahead, I could hear the severing of flesh on either side of me—Brigid was doing well. I made a leap over a dead body and Brigid went flying off of my back. "Ugh!" She grunted hitting the ground.

I turned round to see Brigid get immediately to her feet, give me a smirk, and then take her sword to the men who defiled the land she loved. Everything became confusing then, my world spun, and I saw Gawain here, Gilly there, and Lucan…struggling with Dagonet.

Taking to hoof, I rammed a few Saxons out of their way, Lucan continuing fighting and Dagonet thanking me with a neigh. Soon the battle was beginning to cease, the Saxons running off like cowards, as we gained the upper hand.

"Arthur!" I heard Brigid warned and when I turned I saw a man charging at him.

There were too many men surrounding Arthur and thought he saw the charging man, he could do nothing. The king would die if Brigid did not do something. Brigid had dropped her weapon and there was no time to look for one so she did the next best thing, she ran at Arthur, too. As the Saxon approached Arthur, the king managed to free himself and turned to face the man just before Brigid threw herself between them.

A flesh tearing, bone crunching slice echoed through the air as Brigid gasped. The Pict had not counted on such pain and the Saxon looked surprised. Brigid coughed a little, her body getting used to the sword. Arthur saw the bloody blade of the sword protruding through her back. Then he saw it disappear.

Brigid shrieked in agony as the Saxon tore the sword from her gut, Brigid falling to the ground. Infuriated, Arthur glared at the Saxon and roared in his wrath.

I neighed loudly and reared. _Brigid_

Within seconds I was at her side, sniffing at her hair. There had been hardly a brawl between the wrathful king and the foolish Saxon, for Arthur decapitated him in one foul sling of his sword. Turning, Arthur trudged back to Brigid and I.

Blood was running from Brigid's mouth and she gasped for air. Brigid lay on her back, turning her gaze to Arthur with wide, fearful eyes. "I don't want to die…"

"Shh, my knight," Arthur calmed her with his gentle smile as he tenderly brushed hair from her face, "heaven is sweet…and without earth's pains of fears."

Brigid's voice became hoarse and she looked to me. "Lancelot…" she raised her bloodied hand to my nose, "forgive me…"

I sniffed her hand, tears falling from my eyes. _No, Brigid…you cannot leave me…_

With a final sigh, Brigid's wet hand slipped away and her glossy eyes became dull and unfocused, her head tilting to the side. _Oh Brigid…_ I mourned, leaning my snout further toward my fallen master, _you should not have gone like this…_

"My finest knight…" Arthur whispered, placing his hand over Brigid's bluish face, covering her haunting gaze, closing his eyes and grimacing, "why, God…_why_ must you take all I love from me? What _test_ is this?"

A shadow fell across Brigid's body and I lifted my head to see Lucan. Stepping back, I reverently lowered my head as the young man came forward and knelt to the side of the fallen rider. "You were as good as any knight, Brig…" Lucan wiped his tears as Dagonet limped, and then the young blond knelt beside his friend and kissed her forehead, "may you rest in piece, my dearest friend."

Gently, Arthur lifted Brigid into his arms and stood, eyeing me with uncertainty. "Come, old friend," his words came low, but strong, "let us bury yet another."

I followed Arthur, my head bent.

The wind ruffled my hair as they lowered Brigid into her grave, placing my sword at her head, adoring it with a necklace she made, but not with the one she had on. _May no one forget your strength, my friend._

When the blessings were said and all had gone, only Arthur and I remained, staring at the grave. "She's in a better place." Arthur said, then looked to me and smiled as he came forth to scratch my nose. "You have lost a master. And I am in need of a noble horse. Shall we ride together…like old times?"


	11. Prologue

**Prologue**

_Drysi__ is a strong mare, _I assured myself, _she'll get through this._

Gawain beckoned Drysi to push while Arthur and Lucan remained nearby. I tried to come closer, but Arthur just patted my snout reassuringly. "No worry, boy, she'll be all right."

Drysi neighed painfully, breaking my heart. Such a price it was to love a mare as beautiful as she. _Push, love,_ I insisted, _it'll be over soon._

Everything happened so fast after that, the filly was born, wrapped in an odd bundle at first, but when Drysi cleaned her all was well. _Oy__! The light!_

My ears flicked—I knew that voice. _All's well, little one,_ Drysi assured with a gentle neigh, _you're in need of learning to stand._

I was permitted closer. _Don't push her, love._

The little one snapped at Drysi. "My," Gawain laughed, wiping sweat from her face, "she's a temper!"

Arthur chuckled and Lucan smiled brightly. "Like Brig."

"Aye," Arthur nodded, "like Brig."

"It'd be a nice name for her…" Gawain agreed, "somethin' to remember in that name."

_Brigid_ I said, sniffing my offspring, _that name's a fitting one._

"Leave 'em be." Gawain sighed, standing. "They'll want some time alone."

The humans left the stall, leaving my family and I be. The little filly's dark ginger ears twitched. _I'm cold—and hungry!_

_Brigid_ I repeated with a chuckle, _welcome back._

**_Oh, a happy ending after all! I know, it's so sappy, but I felt I had to do it or I may depress some of you. I hope you enjoyed this wee story and I appreciate all the feedback from you guys! I 3 you, because you made this story possible._**


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